


Punish

by noodlebowl



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Beau - Freeform, Beauregard Lionett - Freeform, Caduceus Clay - Freeform, Caleb Widogast - Freeform, Critical Role Campaign 2, Critical role Fjord, Critical role c2, D&D, Dungeons & Dragons, Dungeons & Dragons References, F/M, Fjord - Freeform, Fjord Tough, Jester Lavorre - Freeform, Nott the Brave - Freeform, Panic Attacks, Travis Willingham - Freeform, Veth Brenatto - Freeform, Why Did I Write This?, Yasha Nydoorin - Freeform, critical role - Freeform, dnd, no beta we die like men, uk'otoa - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:42:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21511690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noodlebowl/pseuds/noodlebowl
Summary: “Shit, shit, shit.Shit!”Fjord curses to himself through his teeth, pushing through the streets and away from the tavern that’s barely illuminated in the night. He quickly slips into a nearby alleyway between dark brick houses, covering himself in between them. The sky above him is just as dark, covering the city itself in an eternal night.He doesn’t want to be an open book, something for everyone to see. He’s gone to large lengths to seal the book, even tried to throw it away on numerous accounts. To get rid of it and who he was before, before he woke up on that beach, coughing up salt water and with the falchon in his hand.But now, it might have all been a wasted effort.--Fjord gets his powers taken away by Uk'otoa as a punishment, and then deals with lurking anxiety and the aftermath of his abandoned past in the rainy streets of Xhorhas.[ SPOILERS FOR C2E61 ]
Relationships: Fjord & Uk'otoa (Critical Role), Implied Fjord/Avantika
Comments: 2
Kudos: 37





	Punish

**Author's Note:**

> I'm working on a Fjord cosplay lately, and it's making me hyper-aware of everything he does in each episode. Travis does a great job playing him, and this scene in particular spoke to me, so I wanted to rewrite it and try and get Fjord's thoughts down onto paper.
> 
> [ SPOILERS FOR C2E61 ]

_Punish._

“Shit, shit, shit. _Shit!”_

Fjord curses to himself through his teeth, pushing through the streets and away from the tavern that’s barely illuminated in the night. He quickly slips into a nearby alleyway between dark brick houses, covering himself in between them. The sky above him is just as dark, covering the city itself in an eternal night.

For now, Fjord is thankful for it, thankful for the coverage it provides him with. He’d feel even worse if he was exposed in bright daylight, or even just a small amount of light from a street lamp on the corner.

He doesn’t want to be an open book, something for everyone to see. He’s gone to large lengths to seal the book, even tried to throw it away on numerous accounts. To get rid of it and who he was before, before he woke up on that beach, coughing up salt water and with the falchon in his hand.

But now, it might have all been a wasted effort.

“It’s alright… It’ll be alright.”

He sighs, wrapping his arms around himself in an attempt to ease the situation, as if to aid himself, to provide some sad amount of comfort. In the end, it doesn’t do much to settle the uneasiness in his stomach. It’s as if his intestines have curled up into a tight knit ball, as if his throat is closing up and lessening his air intake.

He leans against the brick wall, forcing himself to keep a steady breath, forcing himself to breathe in and out. To try and relax, to keep a level head.

It’s difficult, something Fjord hasn’t struggled with in a while. It’s a strange feeling, a feeling of not belonging, of being out of place. He recognises it from his childhood - the childhood of the _other,_ the one that he’s left behind now. 

“It’ll be alright.”

He doesn’t believe himself. He wants to, but he doesn’t.

 _Punishment,_ Uk’otoa had told him, and Fjord had woken up at a start with saltwater in his lungs and the falchon at his side, clattering onto the wooden floor with a loud bang.

And as a result, Fjord had made his way out onto the Xhorhasian streets, trying his hardest not to seem suspicious or make too much noise, trying not to wake up Caleb who was probably already awake. Trying not to be too _odd_ or too _mysterious,_ trying not to raise too much _suspicion._

Trying to be _Fjord._ The man he’d been with them, the man he’d shaped for himself and now had to live up to. Sometimes he woke up as Fjord, and went to bed as Fjord. But during the bad days, he woke up as someone else, and went to bed as someone else.

It had been hard to focus on being stealthy and quiet while his mind was going a hundred miles per hour, panic settling into his stomach and making his heart pound, as if ice water was flowing through his veins, doused over his body and simultaneously into his lungs.

_Punish._

But Fjord had been chosen by Uk’otoa. He’d connected with it the moment he grasped the falchon for the first time on that beach, amidst the wreckage of his former ship. So why was this happening now, of all times? The serpent must be impatient. And with Avantika gone, Fjord might be the only hope it has left.

He’s not sure how he feels about that.

_Potential._

Fjord had been told that as well, been reassured. Been promised unimaginable power. He’s not sure in what context or exactly what power he’s been promised, but he has some ideas, especially with what he saw Avantika do.

Still, he’s not sure what exactly Uk’otoa will do when Fjord sets it free.

 _If_ he sets it free. 

He isn’t sure what he’s going to do at this point. The whole deal with Avantika set him on a much different path than he’d originally intended, and he’d actually been quite intimidated by what she’d told him, what she’d told of Uk’otoa. Of what the future with it loose might hold.

There’s a reason he made a choice to willingly set path away from the ocean. He can’t imagine Uk’otoa is very happy with that choice.

The thing is, Fjord was _so sure_ about it. He’d been so sure that _this_ was what he wanted, what he needed. What he deserved. Perhaps even what he’d been made for all along. And in the process of hunting it, chasing the dream, he’d become sure of himself as well.

But now, the dream is almost shattered. He’s not actively seeking out Uk’otoa any longer, not actively sailing the seas in search of marks of the serpent, of more orbs, of more power. And the unsureness that he recognizes that he’s carried with him from his childhood, is taking over instead. Replacing what he previously had, and endangering his relationship to the rest of the Mighty Nein.

The Mighty Nein, who have all been so kind and open with him. Jester introduced them to her mom and her hometown, a large part of who she is today. Beau has softened up a hell of a lot throughout the months they’ve spent together. Nott has introduced them to her family, her husband and her son, and been honest about what had happened to her. Caleb opened up his heart and especially his brain to them all, and trusted them with his painful secrets and past. 

And Fjord? He has given them nothing in return. Because Fjord isn’t the one with things to share. Fjord is the one who handles situations well and keeps a level mind throughout them. The one who is strong, charismatic, clever, powerful. Someone who fits in. Fjord doesn't have any suppressed trauma or weepy late-night thoughts - Fjord is an ideal. A good man. A carefully crafted persona from handpicked items and traits that there aren't anything to be ashamed of.

Perhaps that's where it went wrong. Is Fjord even believable? Fjord. No last name. Do they know?

_Watching._

His eyes falls on the pitch black sky, and the rain that falls from it. One of the roofs above collects the water, the water that’s slowly dripping and forming a puddle on the ground. His breathing is ragged as he steps forward and looks into the water, focusing in on his reflection and casting Mask of Many Faces. A simple spell he’s done several times before with no issue.

But where he hopes to see Caduceus, he only sees himself.

_”Fuck!”_

He inhales once, sharply, and steps away. 

He’s kept it up for so long. He’s lived with them for so long, and he’s learned so much. But all good things come to an end, he’s well aware of that, he’s been aware of it for as long as he can remember. Growing up as a chubby, disproportionate and socially awkward half-orc, the good times were rarely unaccompanied by the bad ones.

He has had good times. And this must be the end.

_Learn._

He has no idea of what’s to come. He has no idea what he’s going to do, even though his mind is rapidly trying to come up with a plan, a form of back-up. Something clever he can do to stop this, whatever this is, in its tracks. A way for him to regain what he had before so he can continue to live the life he’s worked so hard to get.

He knows already that it’ll be difficult to hide for much longer, if Uk’otoa continues to punish him like this. And he knows already that he is not ready for them to know yet. He has done so well at keeping up his exterior with them, so well. He’s not ready for that to end. 

Fjord has no desire to lose these powers he has obtained through Uk’otoa — because who he was before them is a no one.

It’s not someone worth being.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Kudos and bookmarks are always appreciated - write a comment, let me know what you think.
> 
> (Psst. If you've got ideas for other fics, I'll listen as well.)


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